


All Alone

by zaffre



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Consequences, DeanCas Mixtape 2018, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Hugs, Inspired by Music, Isolation, M/M, Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, Pining, Pining Castiel, Post-Season/Series 13, Season 13 Castiel/Dean Winchester Reunion, Season/Series 13 Spoilers, Self-Sacrificing Castiel, Suicidal Thoughts, only in passing, speculation about angel battle tactics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 01:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15938750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaffre/pseuds/zaffre
Summary: The summoning is simple, giving Castiel little time to further dwell on his trepidation.Billie appears on the opposite side of the bowl as soon as the match hits the ingredients within. She raises an eyebrow at Castiel but doesn’t say anything.Haltingly he says, “I require a favor.”





	All Alone

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fic for the DeanCas Mixtape 2018 Challenge. I chose the song Lovely by Billie Eilish & Khalid which was prompted by lunastories. 
> 
> I am eternally grateful to my alpha/beta Icarusinflight. She put so much time and energy into turning this fic into something worthwhile. And she's also a mod (the mod?) for this challenge, so extra thanks to her for making this whole thing possible! ♡

Castiel waits until Sam has finally given into his exhaustion and passed out on his book before slipping from the library and into the dungeon. 

They’ve been unsuccessfully searching for a way to eject Michael from Dean for weeks now. Five days ago, Jack and some of the apocalypse world refugees had traveled to the Rhode Island Men of Letters’ bunker to search its texts while Sam and Castiel stayed behind to look through their bunker’s resources for a second time. Today, Sam had found an angel ejection ritual in a dusty book, but Cas hadn’t had the heart to tell him that it wouldn’t work. 

No, he’s known what will. He’s just been too afraid to try.

But with signs of a second attempted apocalypse ramping up worldwide, time is precious. He can no longer wait to act. It’s not fair to Dean or Sam, and it’s not fair to the world.

If Sam knew he was attempting this, he would stop him. Castiel can’t have that. So, like the coward he is, Castiel has waited until Sam was incapacitated. He is once more betraying those he had promised never to lie to again.

The summoning is simple, giving Castiel little time to further dwell on his trepidation.

Billie appears on the opposite side of the bowl as soon as the match hits the ingredients within. She raises an eyebrow at Castiel but doesn’t say anything.

Haltingly he says, “I require a favor.”

“You are not on my list of people to grant favors for. In case you’ve forgotten, you killed me.” Billie sounds annoyed. Castiel supposes he would be too were he in her shoes.

“This favor is not for me. It is for the world and maintaining the balance of life and death,” he says, trying to appeal to her sense of eternal duty. “The alternate version of Michael will soon begin the apocalypse again.”

Billie measures him up. “Your personal stake in this cannot be ignored.”

The floor is suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.

“And I warned you there would be consequences for what you did. Cosmic consequences.”

“I am prepared to pay whatever price you deem necessary, so long as Dean is free again. I am even willing to offer my own life,” says Castiel, looking up again, meeting her eyes and trying to convey his conviction with a sincere expression.

Billie narrows her eyes. “You value your own life so little that it’s practically worthless. What you give me must be of comparable value to what I will give you.”

“Anything,” he chokes out in desperation.

“The price will be as personal as this favor.” Billie begins, then pauses. The silence stretches on, and Castiel bites back on the urge to demand she tells him. His stomach is churning, and he fists his hands to keep them from shaking, dreading what she will demand in payment.

“You will never see the Winchesters again. You have caused more imbalance in the world than anyone, and when you come together with them, it increases tenfold. Therefore, your association with them will end here and now. If you ever see them, contact them, or otherwise make your presence known to them, this contract will be broken, and I will reap Dean myself.”

Castiel's brain fails him completely. It feels like there's just static there, the fuzziness of 'no signal available'. His mind drifts to the times when that had happened, nights in the bunker watching TV with Dean, and how Dean had always grumbled and adjusting the antenna, slapping the TV until it had resolved. He’ll never see that again.

“But they will retain their memories of me,” is all he can say.

“Yes.”

“Won’t they wonder…how can I guarantee that they won’t try to find me?”

“That doesn’t concern me,” says Billie, sounding bored.

“But they may…” Would they miss him? Would they care if he was gone? Would they try to find him?

Billie watches him coolly. 

Castiel sighs. It doesn’t matter. Only Dean’s freedom matters. “Then, yes.”

“Be specific.”

“I will never speak to or stand in the presence of Dean or Sam Winchester so long as I or they live.” Each word feels like an individual feather being plucked from his wings.

“Good. You have five minutes to leave. I will free Dean. I will also return him here as a favor to him, not you.”

Castiel nods and turns to leave.

“And Castiel?”

He looks over his shoulder. What more can she possibly take? He has nothing left anymore.

“Don’t ever call me again.”

\---

Castiel stops at Sam’s side and considers waking him one more time to say goodbye. At the very least he should really tell him that he has always appreciated his friendship and kindness. 

But he knows Sam needs rest. And he might try to stop Castiel from leaving.  _ No, _ he will not wake Sam. Besides, he will be reunited with Dean shortly, and that is what Sam needs most right now, not Castiel’s pathetic desire for comfort.

Writing a note is also dismissed. How could he possibly explain and apologize sufficiently for yet another betrayal? Besides, he might take too long writing it, and if he is here when Dean returns then this will all be for naught and Billie will take Dean away forever.

So, Castiel reluctantly climbs the stairs and takes one last, lingering look at the bunker. He hasn’t been able to really call this place home. Not in the way that Heaven was once home. It’s been more of a rest stop, but it was still the nicest rest stop he’d ever been allowed to occupy. And it’d had Sam and Dean and then Jack in it. That…that was always good.

With a sigh, Castiel closes the bunker door behind himself for the last time.

\---

Castiel travels across the Atlantic Ocean to Italy, knowing Dean’s hatred of flying will keep him from following. And possibly his hatred of Castiel, too. The moment the bunker door clanged shut, Castiel had preemptively silenced the part of himself tuned into prayer. He didn’t want to listen to their words, didn’t want to hear Sam and Jack’s confusion or Dean’s fury at being lied to again. As much as Castiel longs to hear Dean’s voice again, even if it were in anger, it would hurt too much.

He wants more than anything to send a letter to explain. Because they’ve endured so much, and surely he owes them, he owes Dean, that much. But that would be a form of contact, and he doesn’t dare test Billie’s will. Dream walking to explain is also out. 

Castiel keeps an ear out for the news, and he’s relieved to hear that all the signs of the impending apocalypse have faded. Billie kept up her part of the bargain. Team Free Will 2.0 — minus him — can now focus on defeating Michael.

He may be miserable in the remote town he’s settled in, Castelluccio, but Castiel knows he made the right choice. Dean, Sam, and Jack are safe. The world is safe.

\---

Castiel stays in Castelluccio for less than a month. The mountains and poppy fields are gorgeous, and when he’d had wings, he would often come here in spring to marvel at the beauty of his father’s creation. But despite most of the town being destroyed in the earthquakes of the previous two years, there are too many people and it makes Castiel uneasy. Well, one person in particular makes him uneasy. A shepherd with green eyes, a leather jacket, and an easy smile. Castiel comes across him while walking the dirt path from the mountains toward the small town one morning. And even though he knows he could easily just change his route,  just the knowledge of the boy is enough to tug at his brain, like a thread on a sweater that catches, and Castiel can't ignore it any longer . So, he walks north, toward the Alps. 

It’s different from when he last wandered - human, exiled, and desperate. This time he doesn’t need food or shelter or sleep. Or a job, thankfully.  And while his needs are few, his time is unlimited. 

He tries to find things to occupy his time. Some days he sits in the libraries of whichever town he’s reached that day, reading or watching humans go about their lives. In the larger cities, he passes his time in museums and art galleries.  Sometimes  — never intentionally, but it happens nonetheless  — he comes across places he's seen before. It's jarring to see them now. They look different somehow, as if all the ways he's fallen has tinted his sight, revealing them in a different light. Or maybe it's just the angle. For all he'd seen these things it had been from his position as an angel, he'd never come down to view them as a human would before.

He rarely needs to explain his presence and often goes days without speaking. Perhaps humans instinctively know to avoid someone who is in mourning. He’s miserable. He will always be miserable without his chosen family, Dean especially. 

He’s in what the humans now call Bulgaria when he feels the familiar tug of a summoning late one evening. It’s weak, and he resists it easily. The same tug comes three more times over the next week, each one stronger. Two days later, he senses Rowena’s magic calling to him. It feels uncomfortable, like hands reaching for and pulling at his grace.

Again, he can block it, but this turn of events worries him. He starts avoiding towns and people.  He even gives up the one thing that brings him any feeling at all  — lingering in libraries and museums.

Instead, Castiel wanders on the periphery of civilization. Sometimes when the loneliness becomes suffocating, he can’t help sneaking down into villages. He uses his grace to seek out the children, healing them where needed. Less often, he uses his grace to reach out and sense the Winchesters and Jack. Just to make sure they are in good health — he drives down the thought that this is perilously close to breaking the rules. After all, Billie said he couldn’t contact them, and he isn’t, he’s just ensuring their wellbeing. And it’s not like he can tell where they are, just that they are still alive. That’s enough. Or it’ll have to be enough.

The summonings keep coming. Castiel does his best to ignore them, but they're uncomfortable. The tugging is bad enough, but the memories they drag up are worse still. He can't help but think of other times Sam and Dean have called him  — different, better times  — and each summoning feels being stabbed with the Lance of Michael again, leaving him shaking and shuddering through the tremors and emotions . Is Dean really so angry with him for his choice that he is seeking to call Castiel back to punish him? 

Discomfort gives way to panic when he feels the magic of a locator spell tugging on his grace. He cannot block that sort of magic. Pings against his grace begin coming every day, then every few hours. They must be trying to narrow down where Castiel is hiding — which is a problem.

He needs to think of something else. A new plan to keep away from Sam, Dean, and Jack. He will not bring Billie down on them.

The first thing which comes to mind is that he should end his own life. It’s the easiest choice.

But the voice that whispers against the yelling of his own self loathing cries out at the thought of giving up. Of letting down those he can still help. Of not paying penance for his mistakes. At his core, he’s still an angel,  no matter how badly he mutilated himself in his misdirected actions. He's not sure what's worse, the actions he undertook when he believed he was working on his father’s orders, the things he did for Dean, or the things he did in his own tragic attempt at doing good. At the end of the day, he's not sure the motivation for his actions matter, only that he did them. He deserves to suffer. He  _ needs _ to try and make amends. Death is too easy for someone like him.

Returning to Heaven is not an option, nor is hiding in an inaccessible place, like a deep cave. The location spell will still lead his pursuers to him, and they might injure themselves trying to reach him. That idea is discarded.

A viable solution finally occurs to him a few days later, his grace is singing with pings every fifteen minutes now. Sam, Dean, and Jack or whoever they are working with is getting closer.

If he cannot kill himself or continue fleeing, then Castiel will lock himself away in another plane of existence. It’s something the angels used to do with captured prisoners in the middle of battle to keep them secure until it was time to take them to Heaven’s jail. And he has just enough grace left to do it. 

He takes a ferry to the island of Okinawa and gets a ride from a kind elderly woman whose car smells of squash. Then he walks the steep, winding path through the national park forest, brushing aside spiderwebs until he reaches his target. It’s a small clearing with a waterfall and pool. This is another place he used to come when he had wings. People seldom make the trek, and most stop at the first falls. Castiel climbs just a little further, to the second set of falls, and crouches down to touch a rock partially submerged in the pond. This will be where he finally rests. This is where he will remain until the Earth is consumed by the Sun. It’s what he deserves. It’s his final act of protection for the Winchesters and for Jack.

Focusing on the connection between his fingertips and the rock, he begins the process. Gradually, the bird song and insect hum around him becomes muffled, the sensation of the pond water’s wetness on his skin disappears. All the color in the clearing, all the vibrant greens and earthy browns, dull until everything is just shades of gray. It’s almost the same palette as was in Purgatory. 

The last thing he feels before he finishes going out of phase is the final pulse of his grace echoing back at him from far away. How strange, he thinks, but then thinks nothing else. The process is complete. He can see the world, but cannot interact with it, can barely care that he has essentially gone into a state of hibernation from which there will be no return.

It’s good, not feeling anything. And then it’s not even that anymore as his mind ceases working.

\---

Time passes. 

How much, Castiel is incapable of saying or understanding. In his frozen state, the concepts of night and day hold no meaning. 

Hummingbirds zip by. Small fish flit among the rocks. Flowers burst into bloom, close again. A snake slithers past where Cas’ feet once stood. Water striders skim across the pond’s surface in search of smaller insects. Cas can only stare at the waterfall numbly.

People come and go. If Castiel could think, he’d be curious about their cameras, about where they’d come from and where they are going. But his out-of-phase mind holds no such thoughts. 

Rain falls. Wind blows. The waterfall goes from a steady flow to a gushing deluge. The pond turns murky when a rotted branch falls into it and sediment is kicked up from the bottom. The little fish flee. Rodent burrows are flooded. A kingfisher goes hungry.

It goes on and on. Endless and uninterrupted.

None of it matters, none of it concerns Castiel, until the day he is dragged from his thoughtless daze by a familiar figure. 

It shouldn’t be possible. He shouldn’t be here. And Castiel shouldn’t be able to comprehend that he’s here either. Being out of phase should have prevented it.

Then Dean almost walks through him and that last echo of his grace abruptly pulls something at his core. His fingers twitch, and the first thought he’s had in ages lights up his brain in the form of one overwhelming emotion.

It’s fear. Castiel is filled with terror, all revolving around one person — one name.

_ Billie. _

As if summoned, she appears to his right.

Castiel panics, words erupting from his parched mouth in staccato bursts. “I didn’t seek him out. I tried to hide. I stayed away!”

“Yes, you did. Much to my surprise.”

The words confuse Castiel, his addled brain struggling to parse them, and even when he does they still fail to make sense. He holds his tongue, and they watch in silence as Dean scans the clearing, then wades out toward the waterfall.  He looks so familiar, from his hair, to the slope of his shoulders, and the well-worn flannel he must be sweating through in the tropical climate. 

Castiel watches as Dean reaches the waterfall and turns green eyes back toward where Castiel’s standing. They pass straight through him, and Castiel’s throat seems to close up . It was so nice to feel nothing for so long, but now that his thoughts and feelings are back, all Castiel wishes for is the chance to touch Dean’s face and look at his soul in adoration one last time before what must happen now.

“I will give you anything you ask. Please, don’t take him,” Castiel begs.

“I’m not here for that.”

Castiel tilts his head. “Then why are you here?”

Billie gives him a considering look. “Castiel, you are still currently the greatest source of realized and potential imbalance in the world. And if you insist upon continuing to be a nuisance, then you’ll be seeing me again soon.”

“You…you aren’t going to take Dean?” he asks, watching Dean slowly walk to one edge of the pond and then back, gradually coming closer to them. After a moment, Castiel realizes that Dean is walking in a grid pattern, his gaze focused just in front of his feet, looking for something. But what?

“No. You are permitted to see him again without consequences.”

“I can’t, though. I can’t leave this dimension without my grace. And my grace is gone.” Castiel considers, then, figuring he has nothing to lose, asks, “Do you think–” 

Billie’s eyes flash. “What did I tell you about asking me for favors?”

Castiel swallows his pain. Dean is nearly right in front of him now, but he might as well be back at the bunker on the opposite side of the planet because Castiel will never get to touch him again. He can’t cry without a real form, but he imagines he can feel a pricking at his eyes nonetheless.

“Besides, I believe your current predicament is about to be solved.”

Castiel tears his gaze from Dean to look at Billie, “What do you mean?” 

There’s a upturn of her lips that’s barely visible, a hint of something, but Castiel has never been good at human emotions — only one human really. He turns his attention back to watch as Dean considers a blue-streaked rock in front of Castiel’s feet. Was it blue before? Castiel glances around. None of the other rocks look like that. He turns back toward Billie to ask a question, but the reaper is gone.

Dean reaches out and touches the rock. There’s a deafening roar of sound in Castiel’s ears, and his eyes sting as all the color in the world returns. His grace rushes back into his body, racing through him like fire in his veins and reenergizing him. The rest of his senses completely return all at once. He gulps in a breath despite not needing it, his body confused by the sensory overload.

And Dean, beautiful and brave, looks up and straight at him.

“Cas?”

They stare at each other dumbly.

“Cas!” Dean practically leaps at him, engulfing Castiel in a bear hug.

Stunned, it takes Castiel a moment to remember to hug back. Dean pulls away too fast and looks him over, his eyes drifting from his eyes to his lips then back up again. Castiel can’t look away.

“So good to see you, buddy. Seriously.”

Castiel frowns. “How did you find me? It shouldn’t have been possible after I removed my grace.”

“I summoned Billie. And she told me what you did, idiot.” There’s no heat in Dean’s voice, only fondness and Castiel can’t work out why after everything that’s happened. “So, I told her that if she didn’t release you from your pact, I wouldn’t help fight off Michael or anyone else that might threaten her precious ‘universe teeter-totter’ between good, bad, living, and dead.”

“Dean, you can’t–”

“Shut up, Cas.” And there’s the heat that Castiel had been expecting. For some reason this soothes the churning in his stomach — this — Castiel deserves this, and he waits, expecting to be on the receiving end of Dean’s wrath. “I can do whatever I want. I’m friggin’ tired of people, angelic dicks, and cosmic beings telling me what I’m supposed to be doing with my life.

“Anyway, after Billie promised she would release you from your deal, she wouldn’t tell me where you were, just that you’d used up your grace to get there. Except not really. Something about offloading it. So, Sam had the clever idea to try the location spell again, but this time target your grace instead of your vessel. Which led me here. Then all I had to do was find the thing you’d dumped your grace into.”

Dean glances around. “Not a terrible place to set up shop. Better than those remote towns you holed up in for a while. Gave us quite a chase all these months.”

“Why would you do that? Hunt me down? Because you intended to reprimand me?”

“What? No. What? It’s because…because that’s what you do for family.”

There’s something more there, Castiel thinks. Dean’s eyes dart away though, and as much as Castiel wants to know, he figures it’s not his place to ask. Castiel will let Dean leave it at that, even though he wishes it was more than just familial love that drove Dean’s actions.

But then Dean wipes a hand over his face and shakes his head. “No.”

“No?”

“I can’t let…it wasn’t because we’re family that you decided to sacrifice your life, that you carved out your grace and stuck yourself in that other dimension. And it wasn’t because we’re family that I spent six months searching for you. I even got on a plane for you, jackass.”

Castiel’s heart gives a giddy leap. “You flew?”

Dean's face flushes, lighting up the freckles on his face like stars in the night sky and he rubs his neck, only darkening the flush that extends down.  “See, Sam and I were talkin’. Well, more like Sam was talkin’ and I was just kinda listening.”

He stops and swallows,  breaking eye contact and drops the hand on his neck back to his side . 

“Sam…Sam said that no one sacrifices so much so often if they don’t, you know.”

Castiel thinks he might, but doesn’t want to risk being wrong. Not about this. Not about something so important. So, he holds his tongue and waits Dean out, watching as his blush deepens even further.

“You’re really gonna make me, uh, say it?” Dean asks, looking up and squinting his eyes. 

“What am I making you say?”

“That...that you…uh…”

Dean seems consternated. Castiel sighs and decides to show him mercy. “Dean, where is Michael now?”

Relief melts the tension from Dean’s face. “He’s trying to start things up again. That dude’s a one trick pony. Sam and Jack’ve been following him and working with the Apocalypse world people on a way to stop him.”

“Then we should leave this place immediately in order to continue the fight.”

Dean nods, hesitates, then turns and starts heading back toward the road. Castiel moves to follow, but Dean pauses and looks back over his shoulder at him. “Good to have you back, man. Don’t…don’t do that again, ok?”

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel says because he knows that’s what Dean wants to hear. 

He’d do it again, though. Dean is worth it. He’ll always be worth it.

“Let’s go home.”

Castiel follows, ever the dutiful soldier, happy to once more be in Dean’s presence, even if it’s not how he might have wished their reunion would go.

He’s deep enough in thought that he doesn’t notice when Dean stops. Castiel almost runs into him. Dean’s shoulders rise and then fall on a heavy exhale. “I said I wouldn’t do this, dammit!”

“Dean?”

It catches Castiel off guard when Dean turns, stepping into his personal space.  His face is mere inches from Castiel’s, close enough that Castiel can see the rainbow of colours that make up Dean’s eyes. He only has a moment to wonder what Dean is doing before Dean’s lips are pressed firmly against his. 

Castiel blinks in astonishment when Dean pulls back, breaking the kiss. He should be doing something, saying something, but it’s all fuzz again — signal lost...

“Say something, will you.”

“Dean.”

Dean huffs. 

“Dean,” Castiel repeats, more insistently this time. “I…I betrayed you. Again.”

“What?” Dean’s eyebrows pull together, face wrinkling in something that might be confusion. “No you didn’t.”

“I made a deal. Without even talking to Sam beforehand. I prevented you, Sam, and Jack from hunting and protecting people who needed it because you were busy trying to find me. All this time you’ve been tracking me instead of Michael.”

“We need you, Cas. Uh, I need you.”

“You don’t. I am the reason why any of us are in this situation in the first place. Billie called me ‘the greatest source of imbalance in the world’. I never should have–”

“Hold up,” says Dean, raising a hand. “You don’t…why do you think I just did what I did?”

Castiel squints. “Because I’m useful in interrogations? And my grace can heal you if–”

“Oh my god, you feather-brained idiot,” Dean interrupts again. “You really think that? That that’s all you are? Useful? That that’s why I chased after you?”

“I don’t understand what you’re attempting to say. Why must you always prevaricate?”

Dean just shakes his head, then pulls Castiel in for another kiss. 

“This, you dumbass,” he mutters against Castiel’s lips. “This is why I’d go anywhere, do anything to find you. This is why findin’ you was more important than anything else.”

“Because you want to kiss me.”

Dean snorts a laugh and Castiel thrills at the feeling of Dean’s body against his.

“Because I love you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, too.”

“Good.” He pulls Castiel into another tight hug. “No more deals, though. No more sacrificing yourself because you don’t think you’re important to us...to me. Because you know that’s not true. Ok?”

And this time he doesn’t respond as the dutiful soldier. This time he’s the fulfilled love of a good man.

“No more deals, no more sacrifices,” Castiel promises.

And means it.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> And they lived happily ever after because Michael got eaten by a tentacle monster and unsurprisingly Gabriel faked his death again, so he was able to fix Heaven so no ghost apocalypse happened.
> 
> The flower fields of Castelluccio are amazing (I highly recommend googling them). And the waterfalls mentioned are meant to be the Fukugawa Falls I & II.


End file.
